


Don't Forget the Light

by stellahibernis



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Recovery, neither one of them is fine, self-sacrificing idiots, somehow they manage to get their shit together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 11:51:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6656746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellahibernis/pseuds/stellahibernis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>This time neither one of them is running, neither one of them is chasing. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“You need to stop.” Bucky’s voice is rough, even, not betraying a single emotion</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Steve tries to match, doesn’t manage it very well. He sounds shaky even to his own ears. “What do you mean?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Stop following me.”</i>
</p><p>Sometimes what people want don't fit together, sometimes they do. Sometimes it's both at the same time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What Makes Night Within Us... / Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea floating around since early this year, but didn't really do much about it. Now I suddenly realised with CACW nearing that if I don't write it now, it may never get written, since it's in CATWS canon and who knows what my brain will be up to after Wednesday. I really like the idea though, so I dared myself into writing it, figuring out on the way how to not have things run on much longer than I intended (as is likely to happen with me). Pressure is a wonderful thing.
> 
> This will be five chapters all together, with one and five shorter than the others. Posting 1 and 2 today, 3 tomorrow and 4 and 5 on Wednesday. There's another note on the structuring at the end of the prologue, since it sort of spoils the beginning...

It all comes to a head after months of searching, months of trying to stay away. It’s night, and it’s raining, and they are on some alley in some city, doesn’t really matter which one. They are all the same for the purpose in hand.

This time neither one of them is running, neither one of them is chasing. 

“You need to stop.” Bucky’s voice is rough, even, not betraying a single emotion

Steve tries to match, doesn’t manage it very well. He sounds shaky even to his own ears. “What do you mean?”

“Stop following me.”

It’s a request that’s not unexpected, or even uncommunicated. Steve well knows what it means that Bucky has run every time he got close. But, “I don’t think I can do that.”

“You need to stop or I will make you stop.”

“Buck —”

”Why do you even bother? Go have a life, stop wasting it looking for me.” Now the evenness cracks, and there’s anger, maybe a stepping stone into something.

“This is not wasting it.” 

“Yes it is, because it’ll never lead to anything.”

“That’s not true, you can stop, you can come back with me.”

“No, I can’t. Stop deluding yourself, it’ll never be the same it was.” This right here is the crux, isn’t it? The one thing Bucky can’t overcome.

“I don’t expect it to be the same, just come back with me.” And this is the truth for Steve, but his truths cannot be everyone’s truths.

“Didn’t you hear me, I  _ can’t _ . It won’t work. As long as you come after me, all I can do is run.”

“And you don’t want to run anymore.” Now, finally, understanding comes to Steve. Maybe he knew before, but refused to acknowledge it, because he didn’t want the consequences. But now he sees, and that’s why he prepares to do the one thing he swore to himself he’d never do. 

“That’s why I’m telling you to stop.”

The silence between them grows, there’s only the patter of rain, and the muffled nightly noises of the city. Heartbeat loud in Steve’s ears.

“Okay.” Just one word, and it’s the right word, he knows it is. And yet it breaks his heart to say it.

“Go live your life.”

Bucky turns and starts walking away, and Steve stays on his spot, stepping on every instinct he has that’s screaming at him not to do this, that it’s wrong. He steps on them, because all of those instincts are selfish. But there is one bit of hope left, and maybe he only asks the question so that it can die down too.

“Will you come back?”

“No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the structure, as you saw, they go their separate ways here, and we'll be following both. Chapters 2 and 3 cover the same time period, 2 is what happens to Steve, 3 is Bucky's. Chapter 4 is when they come together again, and 5 is just tiny epilogue.


	2. In the Dark / Steve

Occasionally one lets something in their life become so important it’s all-consuming. Everything else is secondary. And then it gets taken away. That’s where Steve is now. He feels like he’s standing on nothing, like the ground has been yanked away from under his feet. 

He’s not sure whether he’s grateful or sad that Sam wasn’t able to come on this last trip. The lead had been dubious at best, and there was illness in Sam’s sister’s family. Steve told him to stay, that he would keep in touch and not take risks, that he’d have Iron Man on speed dial. And he did everything he’d promised, texted Sam every morning and night that he was fine, nothing to report. After he caught up with Bucky and then let him go he didn’t have words to explain, not on phone. 

Steve comes back to his apartment in Washington DC, where most things are the same as they were that night he got the first glimpse of Bucky, the night Nick Fury didn’t die on his floor. The holes are patched up, the window is replaced and blood cleaned off the floor, Steve’s security deposit lost. Everything else is much the same, even the same record on the player. Nothing in the fridge he would like to eat, so he orders enough Chinese to last him a couple of days, and then he texts Sam that he’s back home.

He doesn’t really sleep that night.

***

He goes running in the morning at the Mall as is his tradition. He runs until he hits a wall, until he can’t anymore and isn’t it odd, because it should be nowhere near his limit and yet, he can’t take another step. Sam finds him at the World War II memorial, and Steve’s not sure what he’s doing there. Instead of running they go for a coffee, and Steve tells what happened, only leaving out that it had felt like he was breaking into pieces when he’d finally let Bucky go. He thinks Sam might know that regardless. 

Steve is immeasurably grateful when Sam doesn’t analyze whether he did the right thing or not, doesn’t even discuss it beyond what Steve tells him. He just orders them more coffee and talks about the baseball season. Steve knows Sam isn’t actually even that interested in baseball.

Back at his apartment that never really felt like home Steve stands in the middle of the room feeling more lost than ever. He realises that there is nothing for him to do, now that SHIELD is gone and his search for Bucky is over. He’d always thought that at the end of it there would be something else, something he had hoped for carefully and abstractly. Turned out there was nothing.

_ Go live your life, _ Bucky said, and Steve chokes out a laugh that is more than half a sob. It’s painfully apparent that he has no life here, not really.

But it was an order, sort of, and Steve decides that if that’s what Bucky wants, then he’ll try and do so. And maybe he has no real life here yet but there are threads, maybe enough for him to build one.

He digs out his phone and makes a call.

***

Tony is thrilled to have Steve move into the Tower. After it sustained damage in the Chitauri attack, Tony redesigned large portions of it, clearly with the intention of having it work as a base for the Avengers. Steve thinks they can run with that idea, after all HYDRA is still very much active in the world, and eliminating them is an attractive idea to him. If Bucky doesn’t want Steve in his life, he’s going to accept it. Nothing to stop him taking out all the remaining threats to Bucky, everyone that has used him and gotten away with it.

Steve still thinks a whole floor for him alone is excessive, but knows it will probably do no good to argue with Tony. It’s furnished too, apparently by Pepper which Steve is grateful for. There are old USO posters in the common room, he doesn’t need that in his own space. And it is nice, although it will probably take him years to get used to. There is one wall that is all window, and he thinks the light should be fairly good, especially at the height where there are no other buildings casting shadows. He leaves his sketch books and pencils on a table by the big window, since he hasn’t got any painting supplies.

There are several bedrooms, an office space, entertainment system in front of a huge couch and kitchen stocked with appliances. He wonders if they come standard or if he just looks like someone who wants to cook. The gym is probably his favorite, with enough space for him to train. Not with the shield, there’s no height for it, but a few floors down is a larger practice room that’ll do nicely.

There’s also JARVIS, which’ll probably take him a while to get used to, but on the other hand he won’t need manuals to figure out how everything works, he can just ask the house itself.

He sets up the record player in the office,  _ It’s Been a Long, Long Time _ still on the turntable.

***

Setting up the Tower to actually be a headquarters for the Avengers doesn’t take that long. Tony’s network allows for gathering intel, and with Maria Hill at charge it is off the ground in no time. Tony lectures them about the computing and analysing capabilities and Steve takes him for his word, just directs them to start sifting through the HYDRA files. They have been taken off the internet, as much as they could be anyway, but not before Tony had downloaded everything.

Tony has been working on a quinjet, because of course he has, Clint having provided his expertise on the handling and other desired capabilities, since he’s going to be the one primarily piloting it. Steve concentrates on drafting battle strategies for various situations and terrains, since he doesn’t want to always improvise like the first time. 

Tony, Bruce, Nat, Clint and Steve all mostly stay in the Tower, and Thor flies over often enough from London where Jane has made her base for now. Soon enough they find a HYDRA base of operations, and head out. Everything goes smoothly, they hand out the HYDRA members to authorities, strip the base of every bit of intel and return back satisfied. For the first time since standing alone in his apartment in DC Steve feels like he might get somewhere with this after all.

They crowd into the common area, watch movies and eat a mountain of takeout. In the morning they all wake up to find out no one made it to their own bed.

***

Sam comes to visit and has barely made it into the Tower before Tony hauls him into the lab and drills him on the wings. They were Stark tech for the military, from the time before he stopped making weapons (except for his suits, or the helicarrier tech for SHIELD/HYDRA, or anything they have in the tower now), and he’s eager to make them better now based on user feedback. Sam takes it all on the stride, and Steve is fairly sure Tony is going to give him a new prototype for testing before he heads home. Tony also suggests Sam should join the Avengers, says they could do with another flier, and Steve agrees, although while talking about it with Sam he’s careful to not put any pressure on him. He knows it will be a big decision, regardless the fact that Sam had come along on the search for Bucky.

Sam gets on with all the Avengers, but they also get time alone with Steve, mostly in the mornings during the breakfast, since Sam is staying in one of Steve’s guestrooms. Before Steve left for New York, they didn’t talk too much about what had happened with Bucky, probably because Sam saw that Steve wasn’t really ready to talk. Back then he’d had no words for it.

Now, the first morning when they’re sitting in chairs at the big window with their coffee cups, Steve knows there’s no dodging the discussion.

“So how are you doing anyway, with all that happened with Barnes?” Sam doesn’t even bother beating around the bush.

“You’re not my therapist actually,” Steve says mildly, mostly trying to gather his thoughts. 

“Yeah, your non-existent therapist. Don’t give me that bullshit Rogers.”

“I’m making do, I guess. Not much else to do, is there?”

“Not that you really wanted it to go this way,” Sam says, neutral. It’s one of the reasons Steve has always found it easier to talk to Sam than many others, that Sam doesn’t seem to expect him to be anything other than he is.

“No, but there’s nothing I can do about it. He doesn’t want me to be there, so it doesn’t matter what I want.”

“Well, it does matter, but I hear what you say. I get it. It sucks that the things you two want don’t go together.”

Steve has to look away from Sam’s sympathetic gaze, because his eyes are stinging. “It does,” he admits. “But if it’s what he wants, I can’t do anything else. Because, you know.”

“If you’re going to say it was your fault I’m going to drag you in that gym and kick your ass.”

“I’m not sure you could budge me from this chair. But I don’t know. You’re not the first person to tell me that, but it doesn’t even matter who’s right. Doesn’t stop me feeling —”

“Guilty as hell,” Sam concludes. “I  _ know _ .”

Steve knows Sam understands, because he’s still feeling the same over Riley, even if that one definitely hadn’t been his fault. There was nothing he could have done, Steve has seen the files. But the guilt is still there, as it is for everyone who has lost their comrade in arms. The universal feeling of,  _ I should have protected them _ . Steve knows it all too well, knows that sometimes there’s nothing one can do. 

For a while they’re silent, just looking out the window and then Sam clears his throat. “Okay, that got heavy. Are we going to the gym to see if I can hand you your ass?”

Steve has to smile, because Sam is a great friend, he couldn’t ask for better. “I’ll spot you on the weights instead, how’s that?”

“Good enough.”

***

Truth is, Steve hasn’t stopped hoping that Bucky will come back. He can’t. He also knows that Bucky was telling the truth when he said he wasn’t.

***

They go on missions, and the work takes quite a bit of Steve’s time, but it’s not all, can’t be all. As Sam and Nat keep reminding him, there need to be other things. He takes his customary runs, and trains at the gym, and although those are also for the job, it’s not limited there. It’s Pepper’s idea first, that they train some of the employees at the Tower, and Steve and Nat set up a schedule, liable to change due to missions. There’s regular strength and cardio training, boxing, self-defense. Natasha teaches the women to take every advantage, and Steve is usually her sparring partner.

They have regular movie nights with the team, and at first Steve gets mercilessly teased about the holes in his pop culture knowledge, but he doesn’t rise to it and after a while even Tony stops. Steve pretend he doesn’t notice the worried looks Clint and Nat exchange.

A month after he moves in Pepper asks him to come with her to an art gallery. He goes and finds he enjoys it, both for her steady company and the art itself. They start going to museums and galleries every other weekend, followed by lunch. Steve enjoys Pepper’s wry sense of humor and knowledge of art. Their areas of expertise don’t really overlap, Pepper being most knowledgeable on contemporary art, but it makes their discussions lively.

Tony sometimes gives him a dig about how Steve has more dates with Tony’s girlfriend than anyone else, which, well, isn’t actually untrue. Pepper just says that Tony should be grateful he isn’t getting dragged to the galleries.

***

Steve goes to coffee with Sharon, who’s getting settled in the CIA, and he likes her, just as he did when they were neighbors and he thought her name was Kate. But it’s that he only likes her, there isn’t a thrill of anticipation when he sees her, or butterflies in his stomach when she smiles. She seems to be on the same page, and they become friends, having dinners where they berate on their coworkers and probably share more secret information than they should. Steve tells her stories about Peggy in the wartime, Sharon tells how it was growing up with an aunt that had a super secret job, and surprisingly it doesn’t hurt.

Nat gets back to setting Steve up on dates, and he even goes sometimes, nice dinners with enjoyable people, but it never really clicks, never leads to second dates. He stops after one of them sells the story to a magazine. It’s nothing bad, the woman calls him a perfect gentleman and the article generally gushes over him, but it’s the kind of hit on his privacy he doesn’t want. He gets photographed on streets and he deals with it as inevitable, but this is too much.

Natasha is furious after the article gets published, and gives the woman a very stern talking to. Steve manages to have her do it on phone, but he’s fairly sure the idea of having disappointed the Black Widow is scary enough even if the message isn’t delivered in person.

***

One day he looks at all the cooking appliances in his apartment and thinks, why not? He used to cook back in the day before the war for necessity, even if a lot of the time it wasn’t really that complicated cooking, but hasn’t really since he came to future. Now might be a time to try; he needs to eat a lot so he might as well get something out of it. 

JARVIS helps him with recipes and cooking shows, and Steve starts from simple meals, making his way up to more complicated and exotic dishes. The Avengers and Maria and Pepper start to wander in occasionally at dinner time, and usually he has at least one of them for company. 

Once Maria suggests he should widen his repertoire, maybe work on some desserts.

“I don’t think it’s my thing really, even after the serum. Bucky was the one with sweet tooth,” Steve just says and continues reducing the sauce.

Clint almost says something, but Natasha claps her hand on his mouth. They all eat happily enough, and his friends keep coming back, despite the lack of desserts. Sometimes Steve wonders if they have a schedule set up, because it’s never all of them at once, and he’s never left alone. It’s usually two or three of them, which means Steve has it fairly easy figuring out the amounts even before anyone shows up.

He collects dessert recipes into a separate book from his other recipes.

***

Three months after moving to New York Steve realises he has a life, more so than he has had since first waking up. He has his work, hobbies unrelated to work, and friends to spend time with.

He keeps telling himself it doesn’t feel empty.

His sketchbooks are still on the table by the big widow, but all they really do is gather dust. Sometimes Steve looks at them before shaking his head, going to get a book instead.

Sometimes he comes home from a run and stops leaning against a wall, his chest heaving, breathing ragged. Only he doesn’t have asthma anymore.

***

Six months after Steve moves to New York, Sam does as well. He’s decided to be an Avenger after all, clearly at peace with the choice. Unsurprisingly he gets voted being the designated field medic, and his reply is, “Not like I would trust any of you at it.”

Steve just laughs and says, “Better not get hurt yourself, because then I’ll be stitching you up.”

Sam stays on Steve’s floor at the Tower at first, but only until he finds a place for himself, telling Tony, “I’m not going to live in the same building I work at, even if the building is the size of a small city. I need a break from the craziness.” The room he stays in gets permanently designated as his though, since there are likely to be times when due to missions it’ll be convenient to stay at the Tower for a while. 

Sam’s family is happy that he’s back in New York, and don’t even resent the Avengers for luring him away from his safe day job. His nieces and nephews are rather taken by the fact that he gets to be an Avenger, and when Steve gets invited to a Sunday dinner, inevitably they all end up hanging from his arms, laughing. Sam’s mother likes him well enough, her only criticism is about his dating life.

“It’s not good to end up on the magazines. I think you should choose them better next time.”

“You and me both,” Steve says.

***

Steve knows that Sam is keeping an eye on him, and when at one dinner Sam is the only one there, he guesses it’ll be another talk. The topic is not a surprise, but Sam’s suggestion is.

“Do you think we might ask Tony to look for him again? Barnes.”

Steve has to steady his breathing for a moment. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. He asked not to look for him, as you remember, so it’s better that way.”

“But it’s not better for you.” And Sam is right, of course he is, it’s not like Steve doesn’t know.

“Well it’s like you said before, our interests don’t meet here. And he’s been made to suffer, he’s had no choice at all for so long. I’m not going to take that away from him.”

“True, but what if he’s changed his mind, and then just won’t come back on his own. I could buy that if he’s even quarter as stubborn as you. Or if he knew how you’re doing, maybe that would end up him deciding otherwise.”

“I’m fine,” Steve says, and even as he opens his mouth he knows insisting is useless, because he doesn’t even believe it himself.

“Steve, you’re putting up a good act on being fine, I give you that. But really, you’re not.”

“It’s just, all of this, he didn’t sign up for it. I did. I mean, of course I couldn’t know where it would end, but still, I made a decision where I basically gave my life away. It wasn’t just the war, being Captain America meant I’d be in service for all my life. He deserves to get away.”

“I’m certainly not suggesting we get him in on the Avengers. Just that we establish contact, so that he has support if he needs it. But fine, let’s table it for now.”

“Yeah, and Sam? Please don’t have Tony look for him without me knowing.” It is maybe unfair to say it, but Steve has to be sure.

Sam doesn’t take it personally, just nods, and Steve knows he can trust him, on this and everything else.

***

There is another HYDRA base, and they plan the mission as well as anything. There’s nothing that rings alarms, it seems to be a fairly standard operation masquerading as an office building. Except it’s a trap, and the reason it didn’t seem like one is because the HYDRA operatives inside don’t know about it either. 

They’ve split into teams, Steve and Nat together, when Tony suddenly calls a warning. The building’s support beams are rigged with explosives ready to go off. Steve and Nat are racing towards the nearest window when there’s a boom from down below and the floor starts to cave in. Steve grabs Nat and throws her towards safety, but doesn’t make it himself. He falls, and tries to get the shield take at least some of the impact. 

He hits something hard and pain explodes in his head. Everything goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you've enjoyed it so far, I'll be back with more tomorrow. The next chapter is pretty much written already, I just need to sleep on it before editing.


	3. Out of the Dark / Bucky

When there’s first nothing, and then a patchwork of chaos in his head, clawing out anything resembling an identity is tough work. Piece by piece he gathers data, from inside himself and outside sources, determines what is true and what is lie. It’s probably more difficult for him than it is for people in general.

He stands in the museum, looks at the face of the man that could be him and at the same time isn’t. But there is a name, and it doesn’t belong to anyone else anymore, so he takes it for his own. And he stares at the face of the man that was his target, one he couldn’t kill in the end, one he couldn’t let die. He stares at the short loop of the film, and wonders if his face can still move like it does there, grainy and colorless. Happy.

It all comes back, both the things he wants and others he wishes he could forget forever, but won’t. Not when forgetting is dangerous. He himself is dangerous, and it is something he can never forget. He searches for himself, while others are looking for him too. He runs and runs until he realises it’ll never be any other way.

He lets himself be caught, and then he walks away, knowing there’s no more need to run. Knowing their destinies are finally separated forever. It’s better that way.

***

He still takes to calling himself Bucky in his head, even though the name always comes with a cadence of Steve’s voice. Maybe that is the reason, although he doesn’t admit to it. He’s trying to be human again, and it was Steve’s voice, calling him by that name that sparked the dormant humanity within him. Maybe the ghost of it will be enough to keep it from slipping away.

***

Bucky doesn’t remember why he knows how to do it, but turns out he is fairly adept at moving money around. It takes no time at all in the ruins of a tiny HYDRA base to have a more than adequate sum of their money find its way to an account that is his, even if no one could prove it. Payday for decades long service. It’s not really enough, even if it’s probably more than he needs to live out his whole life.

He takes weapons, all kinds of surveillance equipment that can’t be traced, supplies for IDs, and then he disappears. He buys a used truck with cash from a man who doesn’t care what he looks like, just that he has money. His fake ID raises no questions.

There are thousands and thousands of miles of roads in the US, and he can go anywhere he wants. Something is keeping him from leaving the country, though. He stays at seedy motels, only one or two nights at a time, feeling calm now that the relentless pursuit has stopped. There may be others after him, but really, he knew that Steve was the only one who could be counted on finding him, if only due to his stubbornness. He remembers it shockingly well, when Steve was small and sick and refused to accept either one as a hindrance.

He doesn’t remember nearly enough.

There is a photo on one of the trash tabloids of Steve and the red-headed spy, strolling down a street in New York, takeout cups of coffee in their hands. He tells himself he’s glad that Steve has given up. There are rumors that now that SHIELD is down, the Avengers are intending to become more centrally organized and active. HYDRA is going to have interesting times ahead, he thinks, again due to the stubbornness of one Steve Rogers.

***

He buys a house, mostly for the location, isolated and quiet. It comes furnished, which he considers a plus, since he only needs to concern himself with security equipment and weapons. He’s been on the move for a month since his confrontation with Steve, all over the country, and he knows his trail must have gone cold by now. And the idea of place that offers a little permanence feels right.

Turns out furnished means literally nothing has been taken away, there’s someone’s entire life in there. Clothes, books, photographs. But the house is solidly made, the roof is in good condition and heating works. The barn is spacious enough to shelter his car.

Bucky starts with building a security system, both in the house and rigging a perimeter around it. He spreads out the weapons in strategic places inside the house, and then sets out to clear away everything he doesn’t want. The photographs and journals are the first to go, since he doesn’t need other people’s ghosts around. He has enough of those to spare. All the clothes follow, there’s nothing that would fit him. Most of the linens and blankets he keeps, they’re old but well made and carefully stored, good enough to last decades more.

There are some ornaments he doesn’t care about, and they go the way of the clothes, but the kitchen is fully furnished and he just reorganizes it, keeping everything even though he mostly eats very simple food and doesn’t really need that many pots and pans. 

There is a shelf after shelf of books, in almost every room, not to mention several decades worth of National Geographics, and all of those Bucky keeps. He used to read before the war, anything he could get his hands on. He organizes everything by genre and publication date, and keeps a stack on the kitchen table, next to his favorite chair, on the nightstand.

In the corner of the small library are paints and brushes, probably all spoiled by now, but the easel is still good as new. Those Bucky leaves where he found them, can’t find it in himself to throw them away. Sometimes he wonders about the people that used to live in the house. Sometimes he wonders how it seems to have been made for him, but not only him. Those are the thoughts he shies away from.

Anything he doesn’t want to keep he gives out to charity in the nearby town. He comes back with a new mattress, since the ones in the house couldn’t really support his weight, and a sturdy woollen coat since the winter is near.

***

He remembers blood, both other people’s and his own.

He remembers breaking, not how or when exactly, but remembers it happened.

***

He told Steve to find a life for himself, and it appears that he has done so. There are the Avengers outings, sometimes in the news, sometimes he finds out about them on more secret channels. There are photographs of Steve running, or just in the city in company of people he knows and others he doesn’t. 

Steve doesn’t look unhappy, and if he doesn’t really look happy either, it could be just that it wasn’t caught on the pictures. 

He said he didn’t want to be with Steve, and to an extent it is even true, even if it’s more complicated than that. Because if it was simple, if it somehow could be simple he’d have let Steve talk him into coming with him, but he knows it can’t be. There are the Avengers, and he doesn’t want to get mixed in that, he’s no hero, no longer someone who gets to watch over Steve. Nor is he the Bucky that fell off the train, and whatever Steve expects, he knows he will not be able to meet the expectations. He no longer wants to fight.

It’s better to stay away instead of meeting Steve’s disappointment time and again. Kinder for Steve as well, that he can build his life without relying on anything from the past, as he’s doing.

There’s also the fact that he keeps seeing Steve’s bruised and battered face before his eyes, knows he was the one who did it, and he’s not going to risk it happening again.

***

The winter comes early, and Bucky is satisfied to find his assessment on the condition of the house was accurate. It’s warm enough when he keeps the door to the attic closed, and nothing leaks. The fireplace works perfectly, and there’s enough wood to last him through winter. 

One crisp morning he hears animal noises from the barn, and when he investigates there are a dog and a cat, both apparently strays, that have decided to take shelter in there. The cat doesn’t seem to much care about the company of the dog, which was the source of the commotion. They’re both wary of him at first, but after he’s taken food to them, scraps of meat in two bowls, one set up high enough that the cat feels safe while eating, they let him come close, and finally let him take them inside the house. 

They all settle in and get at least mostly comfortable with each other as the winter advances, and Bucky feels more secure knowing he’s not the only one listening for unwelcome guests.

***

His scars start to disappear. He doesn’t notice it at first, but sometime midwinter he’s in the bath and it’s obvious the lines radiating from his shoulder are less prominent. As is the one from a gunshot wound in his thigh. And the stab wound on his back. He supposes it’s logical, scars disappear even on normal people, if slowly, and he heals so much faster. Only there hasn’t been much change in decades he thinks.

But maybe it’s that he’s out of cryo all the time now, with the healing process happening uninterrupted, and he’s not pushing himself either. Hasn’t been injured in months. Maybe his body finally has energy to spare to heal things that aren’t critical. It’ll take long, he knows, but still the evidence is there. If he waits long enough, the scars will be gone. 

He wonders if it’s the same with the wounds that no one can see, the ones on his mind, the ones on his soul. He wonders if the ache and emptiness will lessen over time.

***

There are nightmares, and sometimes he remembers them, sometimes not, but he always gasps awake as if he was drowning. In the middle of the night he wishes he could just talk to someone, could reach out and hold onto a steady hand. In the morning light he firmly banishes those thoughts.

***

Months pass by and spring comes. He keeps track on the news, and usually there is nothing that he needs to follow through with. He tends to look through everything going on in the world in the morning, and then he spends the rest of the day away from computer, trusting that his automatic warning system will alert him if something is happening. He does the yard work or just settles in his chair reading, the cat behind his head, the dog on the rug lying on his feet.

One afternoon his phone pings with a Google alert on the Avengers, and he ignores it first, because there’s something on them everyday. But then there’s another. And another, and then there’s no use counting.

The news are his worst nightmare, one that he hasn’t even dared to think of. He’s stayed away partly to keep Steve safe from himself, but there are other dangers. He’s known it, and now one of them has caught up with Steve. 

Steve’s condition is unclear, except that he’s injured. He got caught in a collapsing building, and was dug out fairly swiftly, thanks to his locator and friends with super strength. He was taken to the Avengers Tower, but there is no certainty of the level of his injuries. Some suggest it’s something minor, others that he died in the building and that it’s being covered up. The Avengers spokesperson finally comes out and tells that his injuries are serious and that for now there’s nothing to report. 

Bucky closes the browser, not caring for the endless speculation that is sure to follow. After a while, he goes back to his computer, and starts digging the darknet. The building was clearly an ambush by HYDRA, and he remembers, faintly, one particular operative that could be behind this.

He has access to sites that are covert HYDRA, a way for them to communicate. It can be used only once, but this is a good reason. Turns out he was right about who was responsible, and also has a hint on their location.

He takes the animals to a local shelter to be taken temporarily care of, saying something about family emergency. It’s not really a lie, he thinks afterwards. Then he chooses a set of weapons, and summons back a little of the Winter Soldier’s ruthlessness.

***

The HYDRA cell responsible doesn’t even have time to register they’re under attack before most of them are down. No one is left alive to tell the story.

***

When he’s done there’s still no word of Steve’s condition, and after hesitating he decides that he needs to know, whatever the consequences. He arrives at the Avengers Tower in the early morning hours, and sees there’s no use trying to get in through the main doors, since there’s a mob of reporters there still. Vultures waiting for news, probably hoping for bad ones, just to get the most dramatic headlines, Bucky thinks.

Luckily it’s not the only way in, as there’s a line of delivery trucks coming and going and there’s nothing easier than hitching a ride. Inside he makes his way from the delivery platform to what seems like a private garage, and is nearly spooked out of his skin when a voice with slightly too perfect pronunciation speaks to him from the ceiling. Apparently there is an AI controlling the building, and to his surprise he’s one of the people cleared for entrance.

“Whose idea was that?” Bucky demands, perplexed.

“Ms. Potts, the CEO of Stark Industries added you just in case.”

“That doesn’t seem like a smart call, all things considered.”

“Ms. Potts has sympathy for your situation,” the voice says, and Bucky starts realising this AI is way beyond anything he’s ever encountered. It would be difficult to infiltrate the building without clearance, and maybe it should make him uneasy, but it doesn’t. As elevator door opens it continues, “Shall I take you up to the medical center? Captain Rogers is there currently.”

“Might as well,” Bucky says and steps into the elevator, marveling how easy it all seems to be. “Are any of the Avengers there?”

“Agent Romanoff is currently watching over him, and Mr Wilson is on his way down. Shall I inform them in advance?”

“Probably for the best, I’d rather not surprise her,” Bucky decides, and wonders if he’ll have a harder time getting out than in. After all, they have no reason to trust him, even if he has been given a clearance.

They do a fairly good job at pretending not to be tense when he comes in, just take him to Steve’s bedside and explain his injuries. They are indeed serious, he’s been pierced by rebar in several places, not to mention other injuries sustained in the fall. He was lucky to not have been crushed. There is no more danger to Steve’s life, and the wounds have already closed, but he hasn’t regained consciousness yet. It isn’t a surprise, to Bucky. He knows that if there is serious healing to be done, the serum tends to shut down everything. Same happens with enough exhaustion after adrenaline has run down, Bucky remembers, as it happening scared them big time once during the war.

After hearing all of it he almost leaves, satisfied that Steve is safe enough and intends to continue as they have before, but somehow Romanova manages to maneuver him into sitting in a chair next to Steve, and Wilson says he’ll go find them all breakfast. Somehow he doesn’t find it in himself to say no, and instead curves the fingers of his right hand around Steve’s wrist, feeling the steady pulse. It’s only then he truly believes Steve will be fine.

Romanova mentions they’re looking for the people responsible, and that he’s welcome to come with them when they take them down. Bucky just fishes out the flash drive he used to copy down all the files at the base and says, “Way ahead of you, Romanova.”

***

In the morning a host of doctors and nurses gather into the room to look after Steve, and the crowd makes Bucky’s skin crawl. He almost leaves right then, except Romanova suggests he should come and see Steve’s floor, and he agrees. In the elevator he carefully examines the thought that he lets her talk him around because he doesn’t really want to leave. It’s not exactly true though, he is uncomfortable in the Tower with its surveillance AI watching everything, and really can’t wait to get away. Truth is, he just doesn’t want to leave Steve. He finally admits it to himself.

The living space is larger than he expected, but he guesses it’s typical of Tony Stark. Straight away he knows it’s not decorated by Steve himself, although it’s something that Steve probably likes. He does notice it looks very impersonal in general, but thinks it’s probably just due to all the space. 

He walks into the apartment, aware of Romanova and Wilson’s eyes on him. It doesn’t strike him that they are nervous of him, not anymore, but that they’re trying to see how he interprets something. Which in turn means there is something to interpret. Something going on with Steve.

He starts from the kitchen, notes that there’s a lot of food, and many different kinds of ingredients. There are two notebooks on the counter. He opens one first, and every spread has a recipe on one page, instructions and notes on the other, all in Steve’s familiar handwriting. There are a lot of them, which means Steve must cook regularly. It’s not really what Bucky had expected, but it feels like a good thing. He remembers how Steve always liked to spend time near his mother when she cooked, how she was a master of creating things that tasted good out of meager supplies.

He opens the other book, and it’s full of dessert recipes. Only this time there are no personal notes added, no indication that Steve has tried them. Not single one of them, which is puzzling.

He goes further, peeks into the gym, the office and the bedroom. There are a fair amount of books; histories and biographies, commentaries on politics. It’s as Bucky would have guessed, but something is still lacking. There is some fiction, but they are titles Bucky recognizes as books that are seen as classics or somehow significant. There’s nothing that would equal the pulp novels of their time, no stories of aliens or future, no stories of fictional heroes. Bucky wonders if it’s just because those things are Steve’s life these days.

He can’t help the growing sense of unease.

Finally he comes to the big wall window, and it would be perfect for an artist as the light is incredible, even Bucky can tell. Yet, there’s barely anything there, only a few sketch books and some pencils. No easel, no paints, no canvasses, no paper, no charcoal. And that finally convinces him that something is wrong with Steve, despite how he’s seemed to have moved on in his life. Because drawing and painting for Steve was a release, a way to relax, a way to say things when he had no words. It was as natural as breathing. Bucky opens the sketchbooks, and the pictures all seem halfhearted at best, and since Steve still habitually dates them, he can tell there’s nothing done since Steve moved to New York. He wonders if there are other books somewhere, but he didn’t see them earlier, and he doesn’t think so. The light is right there.

He turns towards the others and says, “He’s not really fine, is he?”

Romanova shakes her head while Wilson says, “Nope.”

Bucky thinks about it for several minutes, because it’s a big thing and he wants to be sure. He’s thought what he did was for the best for Steve, but now he wonders if he’s been wrong. And he can’t deny that he’s been stepping on the thought that his life in the last seven months hasn’t been what he wants either.

“He’s coming with me,” he says, and expects objections that never come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A scene that doesn't fit in since it's outside POV but totally happened:
> 
> The Avengers turn up at the HYDRA base responsible for the building trap, and just stare at the scene. It's not particularly gory, but speaks of ruthless efficiency, since the HYDRA members died pretty much where they stood, with no chance to fight. After a while someone (probably Tony or Clint) says, "Remind me to never ever get on his bad side."
> 
> ***
> 
> I had come up with the titles earlier (probably already in January), and didn't even remember the logic behind them, but I liked them so they stayed. Today I realised the fic title is obviously a play on my favorite break-up poem, Emily Dickinson's _Heart We Will Forget Him_. My favorite line in it is after all:
> 
> _I will forget the light_


	4. Daylight Won’t Protect You / Together

Steve wakes up, and for the second time in his life he has no idea where he is. It’s not like the momentary displacement that happened sometimes in his early months in the future, when he for a second didn’t remember and then everything that had happened at the end of his war crashed on his head. No, this is similar to waking up in that fake recovery room at SHIELD on Manhattan, because it’s somewhere he’s never been before. 

It’s similar and yet different, because back then he’d been on edge from the start, had known that something was wrong. Here, he feels safe. He shifts and feels a tinge of healing injuries. The memory of the collapsing building comes back, and with it the worry of his comrades. There’s also a questioning  _ mrrrt _ sound coming right next to him, and when he turns his head there’s a cat curled at his side.

He sits up, and knows he must have been out for days at least, based on the state of the injuries. They don’t hurt while moving, so he swings his feet off the bed and looks around. The room looks lived in, but there are a few peculiarities. The bed is big enough, but instead of the logical place in the center it’s been pushed into corner, where there isn’t a clear line of sight through the window. On the bench is a bag Steve realises is his, and on the nightstand is a pile of books, some of them his, the ones he’s been reading recently, but some that he’s never even heard of. There’s also a handgun, placed right next to the books so that it’s easy to reach lying down. His shield is at the foot of the bed, same way as he tends to have it at the Tower.

He’s only wearing a pair of boxers, so he digs through the bag and finds a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Then he goes to find out about where he is, and hopefully something to eat too, as he’s starving. He half expects the house to be some sort of recovery place the Avengers have come up with, except it doesn’t quite feel like it. There’s too much stuff for the place to be something other than someone’s home, not to mention all the guns he keeps seeing.

The mystery is solved when he crosses into the living room, and it’s nothing he expected. Bucky sits in a chair by the window, book in hand but clearly he’s been aware of Steve moving about since he’s already looking at him when he steps through the door. There’s a dog lying at Bucky’s feet, one that doesn’t look like any of the breeds Steve has been used to in New York. It just looks like a dog, shy but friendly. 

Steve keeps staring at Bucky, and neither one of them says anything until the cat comes in and brushes Steve’s calf along the way. 

“I’d think I was hallucinating, maybe due to the injuries, but I don’t think I could have imagined the cat,” Steve says, and it’s true, the cat is like nothing he’s ever seen with its patchy grey and white fur that reminds Steve of a cow. Bucky doesn’t say anything, and Steve continues, “Is this your house?”

Bucky nods and then finally speaks, “Bought with some informally requisitioned HYDRA money.”

Steve feels like crying, because there is a hint of the humor that is so familiar. “I’m glad it’s being used for something good.” He moves to the window, taking in the room as he goes. There are several apple trees in the yard. “Where did you get all this stuff from anyway?”

“It was here already. Sold as is.”

Steve turn to look at Bucky again. “The guns too?”

The quirk on Bucky’s lips isn’t quite a smile. “No, not those.”

Steve would ask more, except his stomach growls right then, and he follows Bucky to the kitchen. It’s a mix of new and familiar, some of Steve’s own favorite cooking supplies have made it there, including his spice rack. His recipe books are placed on the window sill. He insists on cooking, since he’s invading Bucky’s house, and Bucky lets him after asking if his wounds still hurt and and Steve’s assurance that he can feel them but that there’s no pain. Bucky looks at him for a few seconds, and Steve knows right then he won’t be able to hide a single thing. It’s not that he wants to, either. 

He takes a stock of the fridge and the pantry, and makes them a large pan of spaghetti bolognese that they clear out in no time. The cat climbs on Steve’s lap and the dog lies under the table. It’s the best meal Steve’s had in the future.

***

Bucky clears the table while Steve talks to his team, finding out that everyone else got out fine from the collapsing building and that the HYDRA threat has been taken care of. No one talks about how long Steve is going to stay. Later Steve doesn’t talk about it with Bucky either, doesn’t ask why Bucky lets him stay. He’s just grateful to be there.

Steve reaches for his other recipe book, and searches for a pie recipe, remembering that he saw some apples earlier. He picks a simple sounding way to bake the crust and the pie turns out fine despite his lack of baking experience. 

Even later he finds out that Bucky hasn’t bothered to name the pets, just calls them cat and dog if need be. He laughs hard enough for his healing wounds to start tingle, but he doesn’t care.

In the evening Bucky makes him take the bed again, since it has the only good mattress and Steve is still healing.

That’s the first day.

***

The days after the first are peaceful, quiet. Steve gets used to living in a building that doesn’t talk and where he doesn’t need an elevator if he wants to go out. He cooks and makes grocery lists for Bucky, who goes to town by himself. Steve doesn’t ask to go with, doesn’t want to risk being recognized. Bucky probably thinks he should rest more. It’s a week later when it occurs to Steve that he doesn’t even know where they are. Michigan, apparently.

Bucky comes back with an additional mattress and they set Steve up in one of the other bedrooms with windows facing north. The bedframe is old and made of wood and there is an old dresser and a wardrobe. Most of his things are already in the room, put away presumably while he was unconscious. Steve takes a stock and decides there is nothing he would need, however long he stays. He hopes it’ll be a long time. 

His sketchbooks and pencils are on the corner of the dresser.

The first few days he stays mostly inside, regaining his strength, until one morning he can’t feel the healed injuries at all. Then he gets his running shoes out of the closet and is on the way just after sunrise. He comes back to find Bucky chopping wood and alternately throwing a ball for the dog. Steve goes in and showers and gets a breakfast going.

***

They don’t exactly talk. At least, not about any of the burning questions on Steve’s mind, the ones he doesn’t know how to ask. They talk about daily practicalities, about the pets, about news, the books they read.

They don’t talk about their past. Steve keeps not asking why Bucky wanted him there.

Instead he watches Bucky, and what he sees both surprises him and not at all. The whole situation surprised Steve at first, the house, the pets. He has avoided thinking about what Bucky’s life after he agreed to stop following was like, but this wouldn’t have been what he imagined. Yet it feels right, for the man he gets to know better day by day.

Every day the almost perpetual ache he’s gotten fairly good at ignoring gets a little better.

This Bucky that Steve now lives with is a new Bucky, and yet Steve keeps seeing all the others in him. There is a hint of the boy he knew in Brooklyn, the one who worked hard and was optimistic about future despite everything. There’s the man he found during the war, shadows in his eyes but always a steadfast presence at his side. And there’s the Winter Soldier, both the hurricane like strength barely contained, and the deep wounds caused by decades of torture.

And there’s something that belongs only to the man here, living in this house. Steve thinks it’s a lot like peace.

***

There is a minor blowout, as was bound to happen due to the way they keep stepping around each other. 

Bucky finds Steve looking through the news about an Avengers outing, nothing serious, no apparent trouble, and tells him, “You can go if you need to, I’m not keeping you.”

Steve is slightly hurt by this, and more than a little afraid that this was it, and his reply comes out sterner than he’d like. “Are you saying I should go?”

Bucky actually flinches. “No, I’m just saying that it’s what you want to.”

“Oh, for —” Steve blinks at Bucky several times, not quite believing they are having this discussion. “Not you too, Buck. Everyone keeps telling me about what I want, based on what they think I am, don’t you start too.”

Steve draws a breath since he came close to shouting there. Bucky just looks suddenly confused. “But before, I remember—”

“Yeah, during the war you would have been right,” Steve says, voice now almost gentle, pleading. “But you see, it didn’t go that well in the end, did it. And that kind of thing can change one’s priorities.”

Steve suddenly thinks it’s something he should have tried to explain earlier, but he doesn’t really know how to, isn’t sure he can find the words to communicate what he means. He doesn’t have to though, because suddenly there’s understanding in Bucky’s eyes, and he really seems to be looking at Steve, the way Steve has been looking at Bucky the weeks they’ve spent together. Sees truly him and not any of the ghosts of the past.

“You told me back then that you’re not the same, and I know it. But neither am I. Doesn’t mean we can’t still work out, it doesn’t have to be the same it was,” Steve says, hoping that it’s not the wrong thing.

Bucky slumps a little leaning against the counter. “Yeah, I get it. It’s just so hard, I don’t even know. Guess we’ll find out.”

“Sure we will,” Steve says, almost giddy with relief. “Now move, I need that space to make the soufflés. That’ll be potentially interesting.”

“Interesting as in you failing in the kitchen? Doesn’t seem to happen that much on this century,” Bucky says, nearly smiling again, somehow more open than Steve has yet seen him.

“Yeah, the stories JARVIS could tell you.”

They’re going to be alright, Steve thinks as he begins gathering the ingredients.

***

They start talking, bit by bit. About the past. About Avengers. About Bucky’s travels after he left Steve on the shore of the Potomac.

Steve stops shaving, and finds out he actually can grow a beard. Bucky doesn’t cut his hair, and Steve stops thinking that it’s odd. It’s just Bucky.

They weed out the garden, and find that there are still herbs growing. It’s a bit late to plant vegetables, but at least they get everything ready for the next year. There’s also a catnip bush, and the result with it is predictable. Luckily Steve doesn’t mind the scent, as the cat likes to sleep in his bed, preferably on his pillow.

***

Steve wakes up to the cat nosing at his face, and then it hops off the bed, clearly wanting him to follow. There are no lights on in the house, but he as soon as he’s out of his room he knows Bucky is up as well.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t shoot me,” Steve says when he crosses the threshold, and maybe the joke is risky, but he says it anyway.

Bucky stares at him and then actually laughs, leans his elbows on his knees. Steve sits next to him on the couch, not quite touching. Bucky shakes his head and breathes, “Fuck.” He visibly relaxes, his knee bumping Steve’s. “You really are an asshole. I hope your colorful friends know that at least, since it appears rest of the world doesn’t.”

Now that Bucky is looser, Steve thinks he might as well see what happens, and lays his hand on Bucky’s back, and when Bucky leans a tiny bit back, rubs it up and down. “Nightmares?” he guesses. 

“Same old shit,” Bucky says. “Part of the job description i guess.”

“Yeah, so it appears,” Steve agrees, and Bucky rests his hand on Steve’s knee for a second.

They end up in the kitchen and Steve makes banana pancakes and bacon since they’re not going to sleep anyway. The dog tries his best to get in the way while the cat has probably gone back to sleep. Bucky flips through Steve’s recipe books.

“So why exactly was this dessert book only filled with recipes, but no notes on them like in the other book?” Bucky asks.

Steve flips the pancake and says, “Didn’t really feel like making any. You know I was never big on sweet stuff.”

“So why collect the recipes at all?”

“Maybe I was hoping to have an occasion to use them, to cook for someone with a sweet tooth,” Steve says, and when Bucky just keeps looking at him says, “I may have had some trouble adjusting to, well, everything.” The confession feels easier somehow there at night in their shadowy kitchen.

Bucky takes it in and remarks, “Imagine how disappointed you would have been if it had turned out I didn’t care about sweet stuff anymore.”

“Yeah, no worries there, the amount of sugar you put in your coffee. But I wouldn’t have been. Disappointed, I mean. There’s enough recipes for a while in the other book too.”

Bucky moves a tiny bit closer, and after a while says, not looking at Steve, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“And I’m glad you decided to drag me away from New York unconscious,” Steve replies, his heart light.

“I’ll have you know I didn’t drag you anywhere, Barton flew us here on the quinjet.”

***

“So according to the news you’re dead,” Bucky says one morning.

“What?”

“Since you haven’t been on missions and the Avengers won’t give out your whereabouts, they’ve decided you must be dead and it’s a coverup on part of the government.”

“How imaginative,” Steve says, not really concentrating, since he’s trying to get the curve of the cat’s back right on the paper. His hand is finally starting to co-operate.

***

They spend most of the time in only each other’s company, outside of trips to town to get what they need and where a beard and a fake ID keeps anyone realising that it was Captain America they were just talking to. Steve talks to the other Avengers occasionally, either socially or on mission strategy, but hasn’t asked any of them to visit. He knows some of them were at the house when he was brought, but it doesn’t feel quite right to him, the idea of other people in the house, and he suspects Bucky would agree. At least for the time being.

They lived together before the war, and while many things are different, some things harder, a whole host of things much better, there’s still familiarity. One of the things that has stayed same is that they both have a temper, although mellowed since their younger days, and that it’s fairly inevitable for them to clash. Not even on anything major, it’s just energy that sometimes boils over. Then they tend to go for a run, or do yard work or just stay in their room until it’s passed, and they come back to kitchen or living room, make coffee for each other and everything’s fine.

***

Steve wakes up from a nightmare, gasping and shaking, still feeling like he’s drowning, and it’s the middle of the summer, he shouldn’t be cold but he is. Then Bucky is there, his hands steady and somehow the cool metal on Steve’s hot forehead helps, because it’s real, not an echo of the past. He falls asleep with his head on Bucky’s shoulder, the cat on his lap, the dog pressed to his side. 

In the morning Bucky is gone, but the pets are still there, and it doesn’t feel like an abandonment. Steve forgoes his run that morning, heats up a mug of the lukewarm coffee and and has just started thinking about what to make for breakfast when Bucky comes in with some of the early apples from their own trees. 

It ends up being a very long breakfast, they eat eggs and bacon while Steve makes apple turnovers with the leftover pie crust, and in the bright morning light they end up talking about their nightmares. About loss, about aliens, about torture and drowning and blood. And about cold, something that with its abstract nature is the most common element in both their nightmares.

Steve knows it won’t make the nightmares go away, talking about them, but it’s about trust, about letting each other in. About letting each other know it’s better now that they’re together.

***

Steve keeps watching Bucky. At first it is to get to know him, but in time it shifts, without Steve really being able to pinpoint when. He keeps noticing how Bucky moves now, with a strangely fluid efficiency, and how he’s able to concentrate more thoroughly on any given task at hand. Steve keeps noticing how Bucky scrunches his nose in concentration when he’s tying his hair back, and how his left hand seems every bit as dexterous as his right. There’s the unconscious flick of his tongue that Steve remembers from childhood, and the warmth in Bucky’s eyes that he doesn’t bother hiding anymore.

All of these things Steve notices, and it doesn’t matter if they are new or so familiar that they feel carved into his very soul, they are all Bucky. He has changed, and Bucky has changed, and he knows it means whatever is between them has to change too to adapt. And maybe now the way he keeps looking at Bucky might become an obstacle, might complicate things, but Steve doesn’t believe it would destroy them, not when ice and time and death couldn’t. 

That’s why he doesn’t try to hide it, because Bucky of all people deserves honesty from him, and because it would be useless anyway. He’s still an open book for Bucky, despite all the changes. Then there’s also a chance that it won’t complicate anything.

***

It’s the kind of late summer’s day when the heat and dust gets everywhere and even supersoldiers find it too taxing to do anything even remotely like working. All four of them have migrated into their little grove of apple trees, lying on the cool ground in the shade. After a while Steve and Bucky give up even reading and just nap like the pets. 

Steve wakes up and, as it tends to do, his gaze drifts on Bucky who’s apparently still asleep next to him, lying on his stomach, cheek nestled on his wrist. Sunlight through the foliage dapples his skin here and there. Steve is lulled by the peacefulness of it all, so much so that he startles when there’s a touch at his wrist, Bucky’s fingers trailing up his lower arm. It’s only then that Bucky opens his eyes, clearly not at all asleep anymore.

And Steve might be an open book, but he can read Bucky just as well most of the time, and now Bucky has clearly decided to take leaf from his book and not have barriers up.

There are so many things that Steve could say, many things he wants to say but thinks they might still be too honest, too much of truth if he actually says the words instead of just letting Bucky see them in his eyes.

So he just says, “You couldn’t have chosen a cooler day for this?”

And Bucky smiles, bright and real for the first time since he left Brooklyn to war. “Guess the heat makes me impatient.”

Bucky rolls and ends up half on top of Steve, leaning on one hand and the other ghosting at Steve’s side. This is the moment where it could get awkward, but Steve just tangles his fingers in Bucky’s hair and pulls him close. The kiss is easy and lazy, they move at the quiet pace that the whole day seems to have been about. They kiss and they kiss, lost in the sensation, not caring about the minutes passing. 

Bucky shifts and his leg slides between Steve’s, who gasps at the friction, already straining in his jeans. Bucky smiles against his lips, and then the smile turns into an actual whine when Steve shifts his hips deliberately in retaliation.

Bucky kisses Steve one more time and then says, lips still only a fraction of an inch away from Steve’s skin, “Inside, now. I’m not doing this here because the cat will decide to climb all over us.”

Steve laughs, breathless from kissing and happiness. “She would. Come on.”

They stumble inside and Steve steers them into Bucky’s room since the bed there is bigger and he’s not convinced his own could handle anything more strenuous than sleeping on it. They fall into Bucky’s bed tugging each other’s clothes away, and it’s still lazy and slow, perfect the way they move against each other.

Afterwards Bucky cracks the window open, and it’s not really cool outside yet, but the breeze is still welcome on their heated skin. He settles back down next to Steve, and Steve ends up tracing the lines on his skin that tell stories of years of pain, but that are now fading.

***

It’s early fall when Steve comes back from town, arms laden with groceries and painting supplies. He’s finally set up the easel in the little office library, where the windows open to both south and west and provide good light. The dog bounds to greet him, getting in the way when he’s trying to organise everything where they belong.

He finds Bucky sitting cross legged on the couch, with a basket full of yarn next to him, frowning at the beginning of his knitting.

“Where did you find those?” Steve asks, since he hasn’t seen any of it before.

“They were in one of the closets. I’m making socks, your feet always get cold. Now I just need to figure out how to make the heel, I don’t think I remember that.”

“Fairly sure Google can help you with that,” Steve says, remembering that Bucky always was better at knitting out of the two of them. They’d had to learn to do everything, living together poor in Brooklyn.

The colors Bucky has chosen are red, white and blue, mostly because Steve is not the only one in the house that can be described as somewhat of an asshole. 

Steve goes to set out his paints, and thinks that they both probably are as stupid and stubborn as Sam and Nat tend to say. They both thought they could manage living their lives apart, and to a degree they did, but only to a degree. 

They’re much happier together.


	5. ...May Leave Stars / Epilogue

Tony Stark throws a charity party that all the Avengers attend, even Captain America, mostly to assure everyone that rumors of his demise have been greatly exaggerated. 

The next morning everyone, including Bucky, Pepper and Maria, has gathered on Steve’s floor in the Tower. Steve is making breakfast, distributing the tasks of making coffee, cutting fruit and squeezing oranges to others. He hasn’t shaved, and the stubble is so light that it’s barely visible against his skin. He’ll have to wait for a while before he’s able to go to town without being recognized.

Sam leans on the counter, reading snippets from tabloids on his phone. All things considered, they are fairly funny.

_ “Captain America made an appearance, looking impeccable and clean-cut as ever...” _

_ “...surely there were many ladies in the party dreaming of getting Rogers on a more private setting, to see if he could be rumpled a little…” _

_ “...Rogers’ mystery friend, who somehow managed to completely avoid being photographed, looked stylish, channeling John Boyega at the Star Wars premiere with one leather glove…” _

_ “...some say Rogers had eyes only for a mystery man but obviously this is just speculation…” _

_ “Readers are not sure how to take Rogers’ quote, “I nearly died twice saving the world and a third time to boot, I think I’m entitled to a leave that’s not spent frozen solid.” Some think it’s too flippant, others are thrilled to see a less stoic side of the Captain. Tell us on twitter how you feel.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go me, the self-imposed dare has been fulfilled. 
> 
> Hopefully we all survive to see the post CACW fic landscape.
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](http://stellahibernis.tumblr.com/) too.


End file.
